


A Thought, A Memory

by viklikesfic (v_angelique)



Category: White Collar
Genre: Asexual Character, Community: kink_bingo, Dancing, Dating, F/M, Historical Roleplay, Roleplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-04
Updated: 2011-06-04
Packaged: 2017-10-20 09:22:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/211219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/v_angelique/pseuds/viklikesfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events of "Countermeasures," Neal finds an extravagant way to give June that dance, and remember an alternate beginning. Vague spoilers for Season 2.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Thought, A Memory

It's easy enough to slip in and leave a rose and a calling card on her dressing table while she's in the shower. He uses an alias that not even Peter knows, because this isn't Nick Holden's kind of of thing and he wants June to be wined and dined not only with extravagance but by someone he thinks June will genuinely  _like_. The name on the calling card, and on the embossed invitation that follows, is Sandy Dean. He's never used Sandy for a con. Sandy's personal.

He pays attention to every detail--the cufflinks, the cologne. It's a scent that's out-of-fashion now but used to be quite the thing for the discerning gentleman. He wears a short tuxedo and a homburg hat, and even his underwear is period, though he doesn't plan for June to see it and in a way that's sort of the point. It's part of why he enjoys the prospect of this date so much, that and the chance to see her smile.

He sends a car, with Moz as the chauffeur. It seems appropriate to balance an atmosphere of adventure with a sense of safety--after the whole affair with Ford, he expects June needs both. He's waiting at the door of the restaurant when she arrives, and as he lifts her hand, murmurs her name, "Miss..." she cuts him off with a twinkle in her eye.

"Devaux," she tells him, with a comfort in the syllables that suggests he's not the only one using an old alias tonight. "Your driver is very familiar, Mr. Dean." 

"I hope not too familiar," Neal smiles with just the hint of a smirk as he brushes his lips over her knuckles, releasing her hand only to drop his own to the small of her back as he leads her into the restaurant. It's not that the dress makes her look younger, per se. But there is something different about how she walks, the way she smiles, that might reminder him of an earlier time had he known her then. Instead, they're only playacting, but it feels good in the way conning did early on, when his own success was a surprise.

The food is straight Escoffier, haute cuisine at its finest, the wine impeccable because it's Neal who selected it, and Sandy approves. June knows how to enjoy a meal slowly, how to handle the waiters with kindness but accept the little flourishes of service as if they're her right. She tells him real stories, but in present tense--about her family, her mother. She never mentions Byron, letting Sandy be the focus of tonight, but she doesn't begrudge him other details of her past. Neal's supposed to be charming her, but he finds himself the one charmed. 

He leads her in a waltz, the steps more intricate than the shuffling dance they'd shared back at the apartment. Her body is older, but her feet still remember the rhythm, and her hips and shoulders are strong enough to follow his lead. He says goodnight with a kiss brushed to the corner of her mouth, and he leaves a liqueur-filled chocolate in her handbag. When he goes to sleep, the sheets feel crisp and cool, and he imagines her breathing, steady and sure in her bedroom below.


End file.
